


Chosen

by crazyjane



Category: The Gifted (TV 2017)
Genre: Aftermath, Coda, F/M, Friendship/Love, Gen, Grief/Mourning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-14
Updated: 2018-04-14
Packaged: 2019-04-22 18:03:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14314191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crazyjane/pseuds/crazyjane
Summary: ‘They want me to lead them. And I - I don’t know what to do. I can’t be what they need, this symbol. I can’t keep them safe. I can’t even keep them alive. I don’t know what the X-Men were thinking, but they made a mistake.’After everything, John Proudstar is in a dark place.Coda to season 1, with major spoilers.





	Chosen

Finally, he was alone.

He’d held it together as person after person sought him out, looking for reassurance after the Frost girls ( _and Lorna_ ) broke the Underground apart. All of them with their questions and fears. All of them looking to him - what do we do, show us how to come back from this, John. Eyes full of trust. Even now. He couldn’t remember what he’d said to them, but at least when they went away, they didn’t keep walking out the door.

Marcos had disappeared somewhere. John had felt his rage and grief, heard his harsh breathing and his hammering heart, but instead of exploding, Eclipse had turned and run. He’d said something about checking the perimeter, but everyone knew that was just an excuse. And John couldn’t blame him. He probably would have done the same, if he wasn’t so damned _needed_.

The Struckers, at least, had each other, but somehow that made it worse. Their family, who’d gone through hell together, was broken. Caitlin was doing her best, handing out blankets and food packs, barely holding back tears. Reed was completely focused on his wife. And Lauren just sat and stared blankly at nothing, breathing even and shallow. John knew she was blaming herself for not stopping Andy, knew he should speak to her, tell her it wasn’t her fault. He couldn’t make himself face her.

Only Clarice seemed able to move forward. John could hear the strength in her voice, saying all the things he should have said. Hopeful, determined, strong. He knew how much of that was a front - there was panic just below the surface, tang of adrenalin, nervous jumping of a muscle just below her jaw. He should go to her. He couldn’t move.

What he wanted to tell them all was that they’d make it through. That somehow, they’d rebuild. That the Underground wasn’t dead. He kept silent, because what he needed to say was, _I have no answers for you, I don’t know how to make it right._ He couldn’t do that to them. So he held himself still and upright as they came and went. Clarice was last to leave, and when the door closed behind her, he finally let himself slump, scrubbed his hands across his face. _Failed. I failed you all_. Pulse. Sonia. Andy. Marcos. Lorna.

‘Pretty down on yourself, there, man.’ The voice was all too familiar. John turned his head, and there he was, sitting on the cot, back propped up against the wall. Pulse - not some drug-crazed _hound_ , but his friend, the guy who always had his back and who never got tired of making John laugh in spite of himself. Giving him that look that said _will you lighten up already_.

‘And now I’m hallucinating,’ he muttered. 

‘Maybe.’ Pulse shrugged. ‘But you definitely need someone to talk to, and you’re not going to open up to anyone else, are you?’

John’s lips twisted. ‘So what are you? My own personal guilt trip? Or are you just me telling myself it’s all going to be okay and I can take a pass on this?’

‘Right. Like you’d believe that even if I did say it. And since when did we ever do that sugar-coating crap, anyway?’

‘This is ridiculous.’ But part of John wanted to talk. And he’d already let Pulse down - it wasn’t like anything he said now would disappoint him. ‘I’m tired, Pulse. I’m so goddamned tired.’ He pulled in a sudden, sharp breath.

‘It was supposed to be me and Lorna. Building a safe haven for mutants. Chosen by the X-Men, entrusted with so many lives. But Lorna’s gone. She believed, really believed in what we were doing, that we were making something good here, and she just walked away. And Marcos is so torn up he can’t think straight, and Sonia - ‘ He stopped, swallowed.

‘And I’m still here, and they’re still looking to me. Because of the X-Men. Because I was _chosen_. I was supposed to be the one with the answers. The one who kept them safe. 

‘I wasn’t even _there_ when Sentinel Services hit the headquarters. I was too busy doing deals with the devil, and yeah, I told myself it was because we had to stop the Hound program. And that might even have been true, but the whole time I was thinking about Andy and Lauren, and Sonia - and you. I wasn’t being a good leader. I just wanted someone to _pay_.

‘They want me to lead them. And I - I don’t know what to do. I can’t be what they need, this symbol. I can’t keep them safe. I can’t even keep them alive. I don’t know what the X-Men were thinking, but they made a mistake.’

‘Come on, Bird, you know exactly why they tapped you’. Pulse was sitting forward, right in John’s vision now. And it’s not because you’re bulletproof, or because you’re the designated adult around here. It’s because you give a damn. Because you care. This isn’t just a _cause_ to you, it’s never been that. They matter to you, not because they’re freedom fighters or believers, but because they’re people.’

Lorna, who lived on her anger. Always wanting to take it further, strike first, hating that all they ever seemed to do was react and try to play catch-up. The real freedom fighter, and he’d always held her back. Their arguments were conducted in low, tight voices, because both of them knew that they needed to be united, at least in front of the others. She’d deferred to him, but he could always see the disappointment, hear the frustration in her stiff neck muscles and the creak of her hand bones. He should have spoken up, should have tried to reach her. It was nothing she hadn’t said a thousand times, but this time she wasn’t angry. She was calm, heartbeat steady. She was strong. And he had nothing.

John turned his head away, eyes screwed shut.

‘You know the name of every mutant who walks through your door, you know when they cry and when they can’t let themselves go to sleep because they’re afraid to dream. You know which one needs a hug or a smile, and which one needs to be doing something - anything - because they’ll go crazy otherwise.’

Marcos, twitchy, on a hair trigger, fresh out of the cartel and seeing enemies everywhere. Even after he fell for Lorna, John had been the one who talked him down. Sitting up late at night, keeping it casual, not expecting anything. Just giving him a space of silence until he was ready. The first time he’d called him ‘brother’ had just slipped out, and he’d frozen - but then Marcos finally looked him in the eyes. And that’s how it had been from then on. John was the planner, the voice of reason. Marcos was all drive, all passion, and utterly committed to the cause, and to his family. Until he lost both in one terrible moment. 

John’s fists clenched.

‘Shut up.’ 

‘You hurt when they hurt, and you’re so damned proud when you see them break through and leave the crap behind.’

Clarice, trying so hard. Hanging on his every word, wanting to find a way to harness her powers. He’d done his best to help, and when he saw that portal ripping open in the road, he’d been relieved and proud and so happy for her. And then she’d thrown herself into his arms, and it was all wrong. Because he could feel her heart, hear her blood surging, smell the desire rising around her. He should have told her then, what Sonia had done, but he let himself be convinced that no harm was really done, tried to keep his distance, and it was _hard_. If not for Sonia, he might have - but she’d done it to save him, and so that was on him. He could tell himself he was surprised when Clarice kissed him, but god help him, he’d kissed her back. She’d said it felt real. For him, it was, but how could he ever know how much of what she felt was still Sonia? 

‘Shut. _Up_.’

‘They know it. They can see it. They know you love them, man, and they’d follow you into hell if you asked, because they know you’ve got them.‘

‘Goddammit, Pulse, _shut up_.’ John had just enough self-control not to yell, but it came out as a low, furious growl. Because it wasn’t true. He’d lost Lorna. Used Clarice, driven her away. Hadn’t been there to put himself between Sonia and that bullet. Worst of all, he’d left Pulse behind ( _never leave a man behind_ ), thinking he was dead, condemning him to a fate so horrific it gave him nightmares. He couldn’t just sit there and listen to a pep talk from his subconscious, not when he knew how badly he’d failed everyone.

‘Hey.’ 

John flinched. He hadn’t heard her open the door, hadn’t even sensed her near him. ‘Clarice, I - look, I really can’t -’

‘So that answers my question,’ she interrupted. ‘You’re not okay.’ She closed the door behind her and leaned against it. Now John could feel her, pulse jumpy, exhaustion dragging at her body. Determination still coming off her in waves.

‘I’ll be fine,’ he said, falling back on habit. ‘I’m just tired.’ He risked a glance beside him, but of course, Pulse was gone. Had never been there.

‘Crap. You haven’t been ‘fine’ for a long time.’ Two quick steps, and she was right in front of him. She crouched down. ‘It’s not your fault, John.’

‘Which part?’ he shot back. ‘The part when people got killed on my watch? Or how about when I couldn’t stop Lorna? Or when I -’ he bit off the last words, looking away. _When I let you get screwed over and did nothing to fix it?_

She reached out and pushed his hair out of his eyes, leaving her fingers on the side of his face. ‘Wow. That’s quite a list. You planning to blame yourself for everything? We could be here a while if that’s the case.’ Her tone softened. ‘You’re just one guy, John. You can’t do it all.’

‘Don’t you think I know that?’ He jerked his head away. ‘I was given the responsibility, and I just ... keep ... failing.’ His eyes were stinging.

‘Shit,’ he heard her whisper. ‘John, I’m sorry, that’s not what I meant.’ She touched his face again, slid he fingers around to lie along his jawline. ‘Look at me. Please. Look at me.’ There was barely any pressure, but he had nothing left to resist. He let her turn his head, tilt it so that he was looking straight into her eyes. Eyes he’d never been able to read, except for that one time when she’d regarded him with such scorn that it was like a blow.

She started to speak, closed her mouth in frustration. He could see her casting about for the right words. ‘Now you listen, John Proudstar, and you listen good. Have you screwed up? Hell, yes. You made some pretty spectacular bad decisions.’ His eyes narrowed, but she plowed on. ‘But Pulse? Lorna? Sonia? That’s not on you. I’m - ’ She took a deep breath. ‘ _I’m_ not on you.’

He tried to answer, and her other hand shot up to cover his mouth. ‘Shut up. I’m not done. You did the best you could ... and you saved people. You saved _me_. You came after me. And today -’ she shuddered. John could feel her hands shaking on his skin. ‘I felt _every one_ of those bullets hit you, and I know you can’t be killed, but I know it hurt you. I felt you flinch. I heard you, right next to my ear, biting back the pain. But you didn’t let me go. You kept me safe.’ 

His vision was doubling, he could feel his chest hitch. A single word escaped him, muffled by her hand. ‘Wait -’ She moved the hand away, cupped both sides of his face.

‘You’re such an idiot.’ There was no anger in her voice, only something warm and worried. ‘You may be the X-Men’s chosen one, you might be a super-strong mutant, but in all the ways that matter, you’re still human, John. You’re always there for all of us. And you won’t let us be there for _you_.’ 

‘She’s right, brother.’ Marcos, coming in to sit beside him, resting a hand on his shoulder. ‘You don’t have to carry everything on your own. You need to stop trying. We’re here. We stand with you, and no one is going to walk away just because you show them you need help.’ John heard him swallow, felt the bob of the Adam’s apple in his throat. ‘Lorna ... she made her decision. You think I didn’t hear all those times she pushed you to go further? This was coming, John. Nothing we did could have stopped her. And I hate that she’s gone, I want her back so bad it’s killing me. I have to believe we will get through to her, somehow. But what she did ... it’s on her.’ Marcos’ hand tightened on John’s shoulder. ‘You’re not alone.’

Clarice, hands sliding into his hair, echoing. ‘You’re not alone. We’ve got you. You’re safe. Let go.’ 

It was too much; he couldn’t hold it. He pitched forward, blindly, and Clarice was there to meet him, pulling him in so his face was buried against her shoulder. He turned his head, pushing against the side of her neck, breathing her in, feeling the strength in her slender body. Feeling Marcos wrap his arms around them both. Clarice, murmuring over and over, _you’re safe, let go, we’re here_. Salt on the air, and he didn’t know whose tears he was tasting, just that he was shaking so violently he though he was going to fly apart. 

And the dam broke, and all the grief, and anger, and fear, pushed down for so long, came tearing out of him, and he broke into pieces in their arms.

And they held him together.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first _Gifted_ fic. I won't ask you to be gentle, but I'd really, really love some feedback on this story.


End file.
